


The Pains of Getting Tea

by WriteThroughTheNight



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Assorted Tea, Bond makes them his carriers, M/M, Oblivious Q, Sweet Bond, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day Fluff, because he is Bond, where does Q Branch get all these interns, zChocolat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 07:36:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteThroughTheNight/pseuds/WriteThroughTheNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"While they didn't walk out of MI6 hand in hand, the sentiment was the same. 007 and his Quartermaster walked close enough that their arms brushed with every step, and no one dared to say a word.</p>
<p>If someone did, they would wait for both men to be long out of sight before perhaps mumbling,</p>
<p>"Love is in the air."   </p>
<p>But no one at MI6 was that immature, of course. Even with the thick aura of commercialized love marring the senses. Spies would never indulge in Valentine's Day, that would be..."</p>
<p>Or That Bit of Valentine's Fluff That Just Had To Be Written</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pains of Getting Tea

**Author's Note:**

> So, technically, where I am it isn't Valentine's Day yet. But, since I might be busy tomorrow (unlikely) I figured I would post tonight. This is really just fluff, no plot to speak of. I couldn't not write something for Valentine's though, even though I was deeply immersed in another, longer 00Q fic, keep an eye out for that. All mistakes are my own, and I hope you enjoy! But most of all, 
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day!!!

"Well then Q, what do you want me to bring you home?" James Bond asked his Quartermaster. The somewhat scrawny man on the other side of the comms rolled his eyes.

"I believe that your mission specs indicate that you are in fact retrieving a flash drive, 007. It would be much appreciated if you brought that." Q leaned back a bit farther in his chair. He was hardly worried about it breaking and sprawling him across the floor. It had been designed by Q himself, after all.

It was late into Thursday, and Q was the only living being in Q-Branch at this hour. Someone, however, needed to monitor Bond's mission. And Q was lying if he said it was a hardship. They'd been involved for about three months now, and the banter was still fantastic (and that had nothing on the sex). It was rare that Q found someone that managed to match him barb for barb. James was the exception as usual.

They first started whatever it was they were doing after James had nearly gotten killed on an assignment in Japan. In the end, he came home with only a few bruises and a sprained wrist, but most of the mission had been touch and go. When the agent had come down to Q-Branch to return his equipment, it had been late enough that Q was only awake on determination and left-over adrenaline. Q had said something sarcastic, James had replied, and then somehow Q was kissing him. James had lifted him up onto his desk, and hadn't let the younger man go until he was red in the face.

That had spurred a trip back to Q's flat, and that trip spurred about a day in bed. After that, whenever James got back from missions he'd find his Quartermaster and ravish him. Or depending on just what the mission took out of James, the Great 007 and Q would... Cuddle.

Yes, it had surprised Q too, when he discovered that James was a cuddler. But he was hardly complaining.

Sex led to James staying over led to take-out in front of the telly led to the awkward relationship talk where James apologized wordlessly that he couldn't stop sleeping with marks and Q scolded him for being an idiot. Three months later, and Q was firmly ensconced in a relationship with a bloody Double-0.

Now, James was on-mission in France, hunting down a flash drive containing sensitive information on an operation in Egypt.

"I should be back early tomorrow, we're wrapping up now." Q let out a non-committal hum.

"You'll come find me, yes?" 

Q could hear the affectionate smile in his agent's voice.

"Of course, Q. Of course." There was a brief second of silence over the comms, and Q only half heard the next words James said, absorbed as he was in some coding. "Try and get off early, yeah? There's a new Chinese place I want to try." 

"Alright," Q acquiesced, before guiding 007 through the rest of his mission.

 

The next day dawned gray and rainy. Q stumbled into work, dripping wet and grumpy, only to be assaulted by a ridiculous variety of pinks and reds. Throwing up a hand to shield his eyes, Q cursed whatever idiotic employee had thought red and pink to be a viable color scheme for a bloody spy agency. 

With the mass murder of interior decorators on his mind, Q shuffled into Q-Branch. Pulling on dry clothes, Q set to work, glancing occasionally at the clock to check when 007 arrived back in London. His underlings were louder than usual, and there were occasionally squees of joy. Q didn't let it bother him, and concluded that it was simply the joy of Friday. 

At 9:15 there was a sudden silence, before Q heard the techs scatter. He let himself grin, large enough to hurt, before Q schooled his face into practiced indifference. Seconds later, James Bond pushed his way into Q's office. He locked the door, and hit the button that made it impossible to see into the space. Then 007 dropped a handful of items on the desk, and hauled Q around it into a bruising kiss. Q melted.

One hand fisted in James's shirt collar while the other simply rested on the taller man's shoulder. They were pressed together thighs to chest by the arm James had wrapped around Q's waist. The hand in the hacker's hair tightened at every press of Q's tongue.

It was warm and wet and a hello. Q whispered as much when James finally pulled back enough to suck at the junction between neck and shoulder. In response, James smiled against his skin and Q lost his breath at the press of teeth.

"Hello." James murmured, and Q gave into the shiver. It turned out not to be a bad choice when the agent pulled him closer in response. Q ran his fingers through the man's short hair, as James's hand came down to knead at his nape. Anyone else would flinch if a trained killer had his hands nearly wrapped around their throat, but not Q. Perhaps the only person Q would even trust this close was Bond.

They stayed like that for awhile, entwined and connected. By the time James finally pulled back, Q felt better than he had for days.

"Have you been _debriefed_ yet 007?" Q let his eyebrows tell the story. He was rewarded by a genuine chuckle from Bond, and a 'quick' peck on the lips. That of course led to Q gasping for breath and seeing stars, but it was his fault for not heeding the warning of how completely overwhelming Bond could be.

"Would you like to help with that Quartermaster?" James purred, manhandling Q around until he was pressed against the wall. He stole another kiss, pinning Q's arms up above his head. The Quartermaster arched off the wall into James's chest, and nipped at the agent's bottom lip in punishment.

"M will skin you if you don't report in soon." Q warned. James leered at the man stretched out beneath him, and dove in for another deep, searching kiss. Eventually, Bond pulled back for good, brushing a thumb against his Quartermaster's swollen lips. James's eyes shown almost completely black, with only a sliver of the normal ice blue. Q thought James looked like a dangerous predator when Q swiped a tongue over his lips, accidentally brushing against the pad of James's thumb. Pride was the only thing Q could feel when his agent let go of him with a shaky breath.

Out of habit, Q reached to fix his skewed glasses. Just in time, he looked up to see an affectionate smile on James's face. Before it could slip back into the normal impenetrable mask, Q pressed a kiss to the corner of Bond's relaxed jaw. In retort, 007 brushed a kiss across Q's forehead. It was the type of gesture that the two rarely indulged in. Q was satiated enough by it that he couldn't even get irritated when James ruffled his hair while leaving.

The door was half open, with all the Q-Branch employees obvious in their attempts to be oblivious, when Q remembered what he did for a living.

"007! Your equipment?"

"On your desk, Quartermaster."

When Q went to affirm the agent's claim, he found it true. Every piece of equipment Bond had been issued for the routine retrieval mission was present. Present and _intact_. 

It took five minutes for Q to recover from the shock, then he went and got someone to confirm it.

Despite what they said, Q kept the box of equipment in his desk. Every few hours, he checked that it was still there.

It'd be just like his lover to find away to destroy the gadgets back in London.

 

The first cup of tea came at 10:00, it was just the way Q liked it this early, cream and an inordinate amount of sugar. It was even the blend he preferred, from all the way on the other side of the city. One of the interns (Sarah, Q thought) hunted him down where he was making his way through the cyber unit, and handed the tea to him. Q interrogated her, but all she would say was that it wasn't poisoned, honest.

Q didn't take it past that. It was his favorite after all, and it would be idiotic to let the beverage get cold.

The second cup of tea came an hour and half later, just as Q was contemplating making his way to the break room for another, less satisfying, cuppa. This time, Q was settled at his desk to get some work done on decoding the flash drive 007 had collected on his last mission. 

It was a different intern this time, one who was great with engineering but not the technological part of Q-Branch (Kevin? Q wondered). This time, it was a darker blend, richer, with only cream. Q had found it in a little hole-in-the-wall place when he'd been wandering around his college campus. He only took this particular tea with cream and, the styrofoam that the intern handed Q had only cream. Once again, all the intern would say was that it wasn't poisoned.

There was only one person he could think of that would do this for him, but still, Q hesitated before sipping. As soon as the brew hit his tongue, Q let out a near pornographic moan and the intern scurried away. But goddamn, the tea was _good._

By the time lunch rolled around and Eve was peeking her head into Q's office, he was almost expecting the catered lunch. If he grinned a bit goofily at the march of interns laden down with trays, well, Eve was the only one Q had to kill to keep it silent. 

Ever since the Silva incident and Moneypenny's decision to leave field work, Q and Eve had become friends. Best friends even. Eve was one of those people that could keep up with Q. They chatted about MI6, and spread the gossip. Every now and then Eve would drag Q out for drinks, and if James was in the country she'd make sure to lead the man on a wild goose chase. The possessive aura that the Double-0 would thrust at Q once he got home, and the way that James would mark him was more than worth the trouble. It was odd to see the man faux jealous, when Q maintained that he was the one with the rights to the green monster.

Not that he let himself get jealous, but still.

Eve watched him with a smirk as Q interrogated the interns. Once again, that stupid line about poison. But Q held a small private grin as the messengers left. Despite the fact that Q had it wiped off his face when he turned back around, Eve had a knowing glint in her eye.

"Got yourself a secret admirer Quartermaster?" Eve teased. 

It took great focus, and the repeated mantra that he was not in grade school for Q to resist the urge to stick out his tongue. Instead, he managed an aloof air, and settled back in his chair. Eve sat primly on hers, and they spread out the club sandwiches and crisps over Q's desk.

"I have no idea what you're talking about Miss Moneypenny."

The knowing glint didn't leave her eye.

"Of course."

Thankfully, Eve left it at that, and Q managed to eat lunch without anymore fanfare. The sandwich was, of course, Q's favorite. He made a note to start on the blueprints for an exploding pen. It could be useful in the field, Q was sure.

It continued throughout the day. Whenever Q was craving tea, a cup would immediately be there. Not only was the tea better than the usual sludge available in the break room, but it was tailored to the time of day. There were certain teas, after all, that were suited to certain hours.

At least Q didn't feel too out of place with his near-constant smile. For some reason, quite a few people seemed happier than usual. And really, the amount of chocolates going around was enough to give Q a sugar rush by association. 

The fourth cup of tea came with an additional present. An intern who was overall just inept at everything (she'd knocked over a tower of computers, and spilled coffee all over blueprints on her first day) handed over a cup, and a small box. Q didn't even bother interrogating her, to the poor girl's relief.

After a sip of perfectly brewed tea, the Quartermaster tugged the box closer to him. It was a plain brown box, with no external markings but a piece of tape holding the lid down. When Q very carefully removed the tape, it revealed a smaller box labeled zChocolat. With a delighted grin, Q pried the box free of its confines, and flipped the lid. Sixteen chocolate hearts, varying in colors from red to white to brown, stared back at him.

It was sweet in the way Bond occasionally managed, and Q popped a small red heart into his mouth with no regret. He nearly collapsed from bliss. Heart shaped chocolates were a bit out of character for James, but when they melted on Q's tongue, tasted this good, you wouldn't find him complaining.

At seven came the best present of all, James himself grasping Q's coat. 

Q kissed the agent long and hard, making sure that his lover could taste the chocolates. James grinned at him somewhat cheekily, and lured Q out of his office. No one batted an eye at Q when he walked out of his office with his hair mussed, and a faint pink high on his cheek bones. Even 007, the most notorious of the Double-0's, hardly warranted a flinch.

When he was with Q, Q-Branch had learned that the agent was only dangerous when someone threatened Q. Considering the large number of Q-worshippers, this was hardly considered a problem.

While they didn't walk out of MI6 hand in hand, the sentiment was the same. 007 and his Quartermaster walked close enough that their arms brushed with every step, and no one dared to say a word.

If someone did, they would wait for both men to be long out of sight before perhaps mumbling,

"Love is in the air." 

But no one at MI6 was that immature, of course. Even with the thick aura of commercialized love marring the senses. Spies would never indulge in Valentine's Day, that would be...

 

"Happy Valentine's, Q."

James pressed a kiss to messy dark curls beneath his chin. The man in his arms stretched, long and lazy like a cat, before turning to straddle Bond. Q pressed his forehead to his lover's, smirking.

"I didn't think Valentine's Day would be your thing James, color me impressed." Q said lazily. His form glowed a soft blue, outlined by the ignored television behind Q. There was a softness about him, one James was sure only he got to see. "To be quite honest, I'd rather forgotten the date. Sorry I don't have anything for you, but the tea and chocolate was wonderful." Q looked bashful for only a moment, before James took it upon himself to kiss it out of him. When the man in his lap was gasping for breath, he pulled back and smirked at him.

"That's not quite true, Quartermaster, you've given me the best present of all." James dead-panned. Despite the tease it was, James wasn't lying. Q leaned forward and bit his bottom lip for the cliché. They stayed like that, lazily kissing with no purpose, for what felt like hours. Bond was just starting to get desperate for more, when Q pulled back. 

The younger man cupped his jaw, stroking a thumb over James's cheekbone and then followed the line with his lips. It was tender, more so than either of them were usually comfortable with but then again James had been treating his lover like royalty all day. Q had nothing on him.

Before Bond could stop him, the Quartermaster was scrambling off the Double-0's lap and walking away from him. James's fists clenched on empty air, and it was with a touch of fondness that Q laughed at him. The tousle-headed man reverted back to their normal style then, quirking his lips with a come-hither smirk. One hand beckoned to James.

"Well then, you better come unwrap your present." James was already rocking to his feet to follow, when Q turned around and sashayed his way toward the bedroom. He lost a moment, watching the thin hips swaying and that arse being perfect. It was only when the Quartermaster called over his shoulder that James surged back into action, stalking after his lover. "Oh and 007? I do hope you take better care of it than you do your equipment." 

Oh, was James going to take care of his Quartermaster. It was his mission objective, and 007 was nothing if not the best in Her Majesty's Service.

If the boy racked up a few bruises and scratches, well, the perils of Valentine's Day be as they will. 

Nothing James could do about it, and after all the trouble he went to get that tea, goddammit, he deserved some fun.


End file.
